Like th' immortal Soul, in the Sleep of Death![14]
Alexander awoke, and beheld before him, waiting his time of slumber, Hephæstion, and the War-Council. They informed him that the preparations were ready for another attack; they also announced the growing discontent of the entire camp; that the spirits of the soldiery were already depressed, from their tedious and useless hardships; that the cavalry loudly murmured from their total inutility through the present service: they also forced upon him the reflection, that his reputation might be injured, if the future assault upon the walls should again prove ineffectual; and that every gloom cast over the Macedonians, was a just cause to renew and continue the brilliant bravery of the Tyrians. The King of Macedonia listened with unwonted placidity to the remarks and covert advice from his Council, and in reply told them,—that Tyrus would be captured within two days,—that in a Vision of the present night it was revealed to him that the Island would be defenceless within that time!
The Council returned to the camp, where, the omen contained in the reported Vision in Mount Lebanon aroused their superstition and renewed their courage; which Religious and warlike feelings were increased seven-fold when, upon Alexander's return to the camp, it was announced that some Tyrians (captured in the galleys) had stated that the "morrow" was to be the great National festival to Apollo!—and during which ceremony—Alexander reasoned—the Island-Capital would be in a manner defenceless!
It must have been at this discovery that the vain Macedonian imagined he was descended from Apollo, having for the time being cast aside his former claim to be the son of Jupiter.
The Festival was applied by the army to the true meaning of the dream, and that interpretation was received by all as a certain harbinger of instant victory. Orders were thereupon forthwith given that a general and desperate assault upon the walls should be made at sunrise of the morrow, as that would be the precise moment when Tyrus—as one man—would be bent in adoration to the visible God of Light. The wooden-towers were to be secretly advanced during the night to the walls,—as, also, the ponderous battering-rams;—the former were to be filled with soldiery, so as to be ready for instantly entering the city through any breach, by lowering the tower drawbridges;—"crouching," like their ancestors, "in the ominous horse" at the siege of Troy.
At midnight of the day preceding the Festival, the devotional tribute to Apollo commenced in the Capital by withdrawing from the walls the sentinels, citizens, and all warlike defences,—for the day about to dawn was dedicated to Nature, as a peace-offering upon the Altar of their Deity.
Upon the walls being vacated, the Macedonians in silence, and aided by the darkness of the night, placed their battering-engines in position; advanced and filled their scaling-towers; and made every preparation, unseen and unheard, for the coming and dreadful event.
As the first indication of the break of day became apparent, the Tyrian population, arrayed in their gayest robes and attire (the garlands of their own sacrifice) began to assemble, and concentrate towards the great Temple of Hercules-Apollo;—its steps,—the vast area in front,—and the broad avenues leading to the Edifice of Religion, were filled and occupied with masses of human beings, who, with their faces toward "the East," stood ready to kneel and kiss the bosom of their great mother,—Earth,—as the first beams of their protecting God should descend upon them! The rising of that Last Sun upon Tyrus was looked for with breathless anxiety, both by the besieged and the invaders,—the former were gathered to offer their wild thanks for their past safety,—for the present cessation from hostilities, and devout prayers for their future preservation,—for these solemn purposes were assembled the Old and the Young,—Fathers with their Sons,—Mothers and their infant Children,—Youths and Virgins plighted in the spring-time of hope,—King, Priests, the "Wise men," Warriors, and People were gathered as with one heart—with one impulse, to join in festive joy upon the Tyrian Sabbath of the Year. But the foes to this scene of human happiness, were crouched in ambush,—like the Serpent of Eden,—and waited for that Sun's appearance as if it had been the enemy of mankind, and were ready to wreak their fury upon its children and worshippers!
At length the advancing heralds of Apollo were seen bounding above the mountains of Damascus,—springing with their gold-imbuing feet from cloud to cloud until they reached the zenith,—when the Sun-God himself appeared and approached from the mighty portals of the East, arrayed in the gorgeous mantle of his eternal throne! There was a moment of calm, breathless intensity,—as before the hurricane;—then arose the loud hosannahs from his Tyrian subjects, now prostrate with adoration;—but they were answered by the terrific and appalling shouts of the ambushed Macedonians! Sudden as the storm-flash, a breathless panic seized the kneeling worshippers;—they were transfixed with fear, surprise, and wonder;—they felt that their ever-faithful Deity had delivered them, bound in his own fetters, to the unsparing foe,—they called aloud for his protection,—but the brow of their God was suddenly shadowed by the clouds of an approaching Tempest, indicating the war of elements as of man;—the voice of supplication was now changed to the wild language of despair,—all was horror and confusion amid the Temples, Palaces, Courts, and Streets of the Metropolis,—the screams and shrieks of women and children, trodden underfoot by the frantic and flying citizens, were unheard amid the demoniac yells of the invaders, which even deadened the sound of the distant and murmuring thunder: and they now in their shouts of approaching triumph applied the battering-engines with every energy and success,—for the ramparts were unmanned, and their desperate assault unchecked. The boldest of the Tyrians, recovering from surprise, now rallied, and snatching up weapons merely of attack (for their persons were defenceless from their festival attire) flew towards the wall, against which the impious attack was so furiously rendered. It was too late,—an upper breach had been made, and the soft stone wall was fast falling beneath the repeated and ponderous blows of the battering engines;—the balistæ and catapultæ were now unmanned and overthrown as being useless, while the giant towers were wheeled and levered toward the breach, which now momentarily increased in width; the several drop-bridges of the towers were instantly lowered upon the battered walls, when the concealed Soldiery, after their first discharge of arrows and javelins, rushed like wolves from their dens upon the devoted sheepfolds! As the towers, galleries, and hive-cells were emptied, they were instantly replaced by swarms of warriors from the camp, the whole of which was now in motion. The hitherto inactive and impatient Cavalry were drawn out and marshalled ready to plunge like fierce dragons within the city, when the crumbling walls should be partially levelled. The bravest of the hardy Tyrians met the first storming party (the forlorn-hope even of ancient days) with dauntless courage, and kept in check, even by their dead bodies, the instant advance of the foe;—the wall was disputed inch by inch, and with increasing fury by both parties,—each being resolved to conquer or to die! While the conflict was raging on the walls,—where the loud sounds and flashing weapons seemed but the similitude of the over-hanging thunder and the vivid lightning,—Azelmic, his Priests and body-guards, prepared to protect their God and Temple to the last; in their despair and wild devotion they took the golden Statue of their Deity from its pedestal, and with massive chains of the same metal to secure it, and with huge nails driven through perforated holes in the feet, they thus fastened it to the broad summit of the great Altar of the Nation!
The devoted Sidonians were not inactive, for they were watching the progress of the storming of the walls, and as they learnt (from the shouts) that the invaders were about to enter the city, they drew near,—resolved to receive at the Seaward Gates those Fugitives who would rather choose a home within the Galleys, than a grave within the Citadel.